Elusive Hope (21 page)

“So it was money he stole?” Magnolia pressed, desperate to understand this man before her.

“No. Something far more precious.” His vacant stare took in the room as sorrow stole over his features. Perhaps they had more in common than she first realized. She was about to inquire what exactly the man had taken from him when a commotion drew everyone’s gaze to the veranda. Poor Mr. Santos hobbled into the room, scattering droplets on the tile floor and firing an angry glare over the assembly.

Ushering Magnolia aside, Hayden ducked behind a cluster of people as the man let out a frustrated growl and stormed out the other side of the room, demanding the servant retrieve his coat. A moment later the front door slammed, and Magnolia could only assume he’d left since the room suddenly burst with mocking laughter.

Hayden handed her the wine, his smile returning. “I suppose you
do
deserve this.” The hint of adoration in those jungle green eyes made her want to do more for this man, anything he asked—just to keep him looking at her like that a little longer.

She sipped the wine, keeping her eyes trained on his. A grin lifted one side of his lips as he continued to stare at her, seemingly looking past the silk and lace, past the beads and fripperies, into her very soul, absorbing her with the delight of a man who’d found a priceless jewel. But that couldn’t be right. she was no jewel. Her throat went dry and she looked away. She had to keep her focus. She couldn’t allow this man to charm his way into her heart, for in the morning she had to leave him—buy a ticket and get on a ship and never see him again. An ache radiated through her at the thought. If only Mr. Godard had gone back to America. Then She wouldn’t have to travel alone. And this wouldn’t be her last night with Hayden.

But it
was
her last night with him. And despite the threat to her heart, she wanted to make it a night to remember.

He was still staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Was her hair out of place? Suddenly self-conscious, she began stuffing loose strands into her bun. But a gentle touch to her hand halted her, charmed her into saying, “I do have a favor to ask of you, Hayden.”

“And what is that, Princess?”

“Would you dance with me?”

Was the princess flirting with him? By her coquettish grin and the way she lowered her lashes innocently, Hayden could come to no other conclusion. After he’d forced her to welcome that foppish squab’s attentions, he wouldn’t blame her if she poured her drink on his head and stomped off. Instead, she asked him to dance!

He cocked his head. She was up to something. But what? Perhaps she hoped to convince him to escort her to the States. Which—no matter how much he wanted to—he couldn’t do. Perhaps she hoped to lessen the amount she owed him. Which now he needed more than ever if he was going to find his father. He glanced at the couples floating across the floor in a country dance. Whatever her reasons, the lady did have a point. Since they were here in the midst of this elaborate party, why not enjoy it?

He offered his arm. “I’d love to.”

Delight brightened her smile as he led her onto the floor, took her hand, and joined the other couples bobbing and gliding to the music.

“Why did you tell Mr. Santos I was your wife?” Magnolia asked as they bowed to each other.

“I thought it might temper the man’s passions.” Hayden took her hand and together they strolled down the line of couples.

“Why temper them if their very existence brought you the information you sought?” Her voice was sharp, her chin lifted.

“If you’re asking whether there was a limit to the price I would see you pay, there was.” He took both her hands and spun her around. “And Mr. Santos had reached that limit when you shoved him into the pond.”

At this she giggled, though an odd pain lingered behind her eyes.

“Besides, I knew he could not resist your charms for long.”

She gave him a disbelieving look, but for once, Hayden spoke the truth, for he was having trouble resisting her himself. The way little wisps of her flaxen hair bobbed about her neck as she danced, the delicate curve of her jaw, her high cheeks flushed with excitement, and her lips swollen and pink. The gossamer lace edging her low neckline rose and fell with each breath, drawing his gaze, though he tried not to look. Save for a few beads in her hair, she wore no jewels or baubles, no silver combs or satin sashes, yet she outshone every woman there. And those eyes—blue as sapphires—flashing like lightning. And just like lightning, they were electric and powerful. Especially when they looked at him as she was looking at him now.

They finished the dance, but at her request, they stayed on the floor and continued with a Scottish Reel. And then another dance and another, stopping only for refreshments and a stroll in the garden. Her laughter became his healing elixir, her smile his hope. Hours sped by like minutes, and for the first time in his life, Hayden found he was enjoying himself. Immensely. All because of Magnolia. Her coy glances, her witty repartee, the way she looked at him as though she saw a prince instead of a toad.

He knew she could have her choice of any gentleman present, most of whom bore the noble posture of gentility and wealth, not the stink of an impoverished orphan. Instead, she seemed to barely notice the men who looked her way, her attention fixed on him alone. She was his for tonight. The realization made his chest swell. He felt as though someone had placed a precious gem in his hand and charged him with its care. Instead of dodging the assignment, he cherished it.

Zooks, what was happening to him? No doubt it was the wine, the rich food, the music and opulence. It combined to spin a magical web, deluding him into believing that he was not a thief and an orphan and she was not a stunning patrician. And that perhaps they might have a chance together.

He brought her a glass of lemonade, ignoring her look of disappointment at the drink. But he’d had a hard time resisting her in the jungle when she’d been inebriated. He doubted he could summon enough self-control in this magical place.

“You dance marvelously,” she commented.

“That surprises you?”

“Yes.” She looked at him but there was no condescension in her eyes. “Where did you learn?”

Hayden grinned. “Here and there.”

“Ah yes, I’ve seen your skill at sneaking into parties uninvited.”

“It does come in handy. I will teach you some time.”

She lowered her gaze as if a sudden sadness stole her joy.

He determined to gain it back. “You look lovely tonight.”

She raised sparkling eyes to his. “Ah, a compliment. The first one you’ve paid me.” She began fiddling with her hair.

He stayed her hand. “Your hair is perfect.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. The music, the laughter, the exotic sound of Portuguese, all faded around them as their eyes locked together. Time floated on a whisper—a whisper that held all his dreams in its breath. A whisper that danced around them, between them, caressing her face, stirring her curls, filling him with her scent, with a hope that dangled within reach. Her eyes shifted between his as if seeking an answer.

But what was the question? Was it the same one that burned on his heart?

Could a pampered rich plantation owner’s daughter love a baseborn swindler?

But he already knew the answer.

Not in the real world.

Tonight was a fantasy, a dream. And it would soon come to an end. Especially when the sun rose in the morning and she found out the truth.

C
HAPTER
17

D
arkness cloaked the stairs leading up to Magnolia’s hotel room. She tripped on one of the treads and Hayden’s arm swung around her waist.

“I told you to stop drinking wine,” he said.

“I didn’t have too much,” she shot back. “I simply can’t see the steps.” The only light came from a sputtering lantern on the landing above them. Not that she minded Hayden’s arm around her. She’d felt his touch quite often during the night. With each possessive press on her back, each grip on her elbow, each squeeze of her hand, he’d been staking claim on her, making her feel cared for and protected for the first time in her life.

The steps creaked. Her skirts swished. The rhythmic tick of a clock joined the distant pattering of a mouse as they reached the top. The hallway spun and she leaned on Hayden. Perhaps she
had
overindulged just a bit.

What a wonderful evening! Dancing, the orchestra, the wine and delicacies. And Hayden looking so dashingly handsome. The way he’d swept her across the dance floor with the style and grace of any aristocrat while a multitude of envious eyes followed them. It was a dream, an incredible, magical dream. Yet now her feet felt as heavy as cannon balls.

Hayden was silent beside her. Was he distraught at their parting? Halting before her door, she spun to face him. Lantern light rippled over the firm lines of his jaw, his cheeks, and over the speck of sorrow in his green eyes. He stared at her lips and licked his own. For a brief, exhilarating moment, she thought he might kiss her again.

Instead he swallowed, shifted his stance, and leaned in to whisper, “I had a wonderful time tonight.” His warm breath fondled her neck and spiraled a pleasurable shiver down her back. She gripped the door handle behind her. Anything to keep from throwing herself in his arms. From begging him to come with her to the States. From telling him that she’d never felt this way about any man before. Not even Samuel. Or it had been so long since she’d seen her fiancé that she’d simply forgotten? Regardless, she should say goodnight, slip inside her room, and close the door before she did something only an unchaste woman would do.

“I enjoyed myself as well,” she replied, soaking in every detail of his face, his strong Roman nose, sculpted cheeks, thick brows and lashes that matched his dark hair, and the stubble that circled his mouth and trailed his jaw. She never wanted to forget him.

Hayden scratched that stubble now and met her gaze. The
tick-tock tick-tock
of a clock down in the lobby counted out their final moments together. Final moments only she knew about. For he no doubt assumed he’d be escorting her to the dock master come morning. Snoring rumbled down the hall. Hayden’s breathing grew deep. He seemed as unwilling to leave her as she was him. Finally, he grinned. “So you didn’t mind spending an evening with a toad?”

“I make concessions for toads who know how to dance.”

“But you would prefer a prince?” He eased a lock of her hair behind her ear, suddenly serious.

The intimate gesture nearly caused her to blurt out
No! I much prefer the toad!
But instead she lifted her chin and said, “Of course. What princess wouldn’t?”

He frowned. Good. She must stop this dangerous dalliance or she’d be done for. She forced her thoughts to what she must do in the morning—escape this man, leave him behind.

“Where will you stay tonight?” she asked.

“I’ll find somewhere. I’m used to being on the streets, remember?”

Yes, she did. And it endeared him to her all the more. She’d never met a man like him. He’d suffered so much, grown up without a single advantage, yet he was more competent than any man she’d known. Even Samuel, who although he was a successful solicitor, could barely start a fire without a servant’s help.

Hayden studied her, a sudden twinkle in his eyes. “Hmm. I do recall, however, that in your
Maiden and the Frog
story, the young lady made a bargain with the toad that allowed him to share her bed for two nights.”

Magnolia would have slapped any other man for such an insinuation, or at least slammed the door in his face, but she knew Hayden, could hear the teasing in his voice. “You remember correctly, sir. But I believe he gave her something first, something invaluable to her survival.”

“Alas, I have brought you to Rio, my princess.”

“And you will be paid,” she lied.

He sighed and loosened his string tie. “Very well. If you don’t wish to see the toad transformed into a prince…”

Magnolia wouldn’t tell him that he had already made the transformation. “But you forget the end of the story. After the toad spent two nights with the maiden, she had to chop off his head in order for him to turn into a prince.”

Hayden rubbed his throat, his brow crinkling.“On second thought, I believe I’ll remain a toad.” He grinned, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams to you, fair maiden.”Then with a wink, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.